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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25269814">Nazi's gay awakening lmao</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/authunity/pseuds/authunity'>authunity</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Centricide (Webseries)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>I am once again projecting my own repression onto the blue man, I make them fight and bicker a lot and nazi regrettably likes it., M/M, nsfw doesn't happen until ch 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:54:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,746</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25269814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/authunity/pseuds/authunity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Authunity story of Commie and Nazi being alone in the extremist house that at least 5 other people have already written but this time it's written by @authunity so it's based-er. </p><p>Featuring Nazi's yearning and repression written by the owner of @NahtzeeSays on Twitter himself so that should be all you fags need to be interested.</p><p>Also I use human names but Commie is called Nikolai in this because I know too many people named Joseph IRL and that made it uncomfortable.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Commie/Nazi, authleft/authright, authunity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Homoerotic and repressed authunity fighting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>They had both made a habit of wasting into the night, drinking and later bickering. Perhaps the scene of two men arguing at the dining room table in a dimly lit kitchen at 3 a.m. was a pathetic sight, but the two were too intoxicated at that point to care. </p><p>...</p><p>But after a few too many nights of this kind petty bickering with absolutely nothing being done about it, James had gotten fed up.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The house had gotten much more tense ever since the anarchists left, leaving James and Nikolai alone. </p><p>The two hated each other and would have preferred to never have speak to the other. Nonetheless, ever since Jay had left, Nikolai needed someone to unload his angst onto—and James needed someone new to pick on. </p><p>They had both made a habit of wasting into the night, drinking and later bickering. Perhaps the scene of two men arguing at the dining room table in a dimly lit kitchen at 3 a.m. was a pathetic sight, but the two were too intoxicated at that point to care. </p><p>Their petty quarrels usually surrounded what James considered uselessness on Nikolai's end and what Nikolai considered heartlessness on James's end. </p><p>James would make it abundantly clear that he thought that it was better for the team that the anarchists were no longer around. They would have only ruined their plans, probably batshit high off of opiates or something. It was useless to sulk over the loss of a lost cause, and now the two of them could direct their energy towards something of purpose.</p><p>Still, Nikolai hadn't thought of the anarkiddie as a complete lost cause. He would tell James that Jay could have come around if he had simply educated quem more—to which James would respond with saying "anarchists like <i>him</i> aren't worth the rehabilitation."</p><p>And after a few too many nights of this kind of petty bickering with absolutely nothing being done about it, James had gotten fed up. </p><p>It had started off as the past few nights had: it was 11 p.m. and Nikolai had just grabbed another bottle of vodka from the top of the fridge. He sat down at the dining room table, across from where James had already been sipping at a bottle of beer. Nikolai had stopped caring at this point, taking sips directly from the bottle. </p><p>This particular night, neither bothered to comment on the scene at first. They sat together in tense silence, as the television they pretended to be watching played as background noise. </p><p>It wasn't too long until James had gotten uncomfortable with the quiet of the house.</p><p>"I'm tired of this bullshit," he suddenly shot at Nikolai, abruptly interrupting the silence. His voice felt rough and unclean, not prepared for the anger that had suddenly taken over him. "I'm tired of these nights where we get absolutely nothing done. I'm sick of your bullshit."</p><p>Nikolai sighed. "Isn't that a way to break the silence," he replied. "For once, I was enjoying myself in your company. I thought you could go without berating me for one single night, but I suppose you cannot even manage that."</p><p>"How the fuck is drinking yourself away 'enjoying yourself,' you mentally deficient alcoholic?"</p><p>Nikolai chuckled weakly. "You are one to call me alcoholic. You have been right beside me drinking yourself away this whole time too."</p><p>"It's the only way I can fucking deal with being in the same house as your sorry, pathetic self. You're a fucking wreck and you can't even do anything about it," James said, exasperated. </p><p>James sunk back in his chair. "Absolutely worthless," he quietly added under his breath.</p><p>"What was that?"</p><p>"Oh, I'm sorry," James said mockingly, taking up his challenge. "I should have said it louder to get it through that thick skull of yours. If I haven't made it clear enough these past few nights, you're absolutely pathetic. You are a worthless fucking sight to behold." </p><p>James sat back up and leaned across the table, tilting Nikolai's head up to face him. </p><p>"<i>You are weak</i>." He spat each word into the other man's sullen face.</p><p>His cockiness resulted in a loud smack echoing through the quiet kitchen as Nikolai gave James an unforgiving slap on the side of his face.</p><p>James' cheek burned with pain, a flash of shock appearing in his eyes—but quickly disappearing as he regained composure. He turned back towards Nikolai, who was now looking up at him smugly.</p><p>"Very weak, yes?" he said, mockingly.</p><p>Nikolai has been testing his patience for the past week and now all bets were off the table. </p><p>James lifted his arm back and swung as hard as he could, punching the other man's face. Nikolai lost his balance in his chair and fell to the ground, lightly holding his reddening face in his hands. </p><p>"Weak indeed. This weakness—your pathetic angst—has only led you to be too preoccupied with a dead man. How can you stand hearing yourself whining over a fucking <i>anarchist</i>."</p><p>James stood up and walked over to the other man. He was kneeled over, hands supporting himself on the floor while droplets of blood dripped down from his nose. James smiled at the sight and kicked him in the shoulder, feeling a rush of euphoria from his power as he saw Nikolai's arm waver as he fell down to his elbow.</p><p>"And look where your weakness got you. Bloodied and on the ground from just a little hit," he said, quite literally adding insult to injury.</p><p>James kicked him over. Nikolai was on his back now, with James' foot on his chest, pinning him down. James glared down at him. </p><p>"I've been holding this back for the past week but since we seem to have forgotten proper manners, I'll show you how I really feel about all of this. I swear, if I could have my way with you, you'd be a dead man."</p><p>Nikolai looked up at him apathetically, unbothered by the Nazi's attempts to anger him and unbothered by the bloodied nose the Nazi had given him.</p><p>"Get your foot off of me," Nikolai said coldly, completely disregarding all the insults that James had been throwing at him. </p><p>James didn't even take the time to consider the request. Perhaps he wanted to force the tankie to actually fucking do something—or perhaps he was guiltily reveling in how the tankie was submitting to him—but, nonetheless, he refused to listen. Instead, James leaned down, pressing the heel of his boot harder into his chest.</p><p>"You're going to have to try harder than that, tankie," he taunted him.</p><p>He knew Nikolai was strong enough to push him off. But he also knew that Nikolai was probably too caught up in his own disgusting pool of pity to care to do anything for himself. He felt like he needed to push further.</p><p>But Nikolai quickly interrupted his thoughts. "I do not want to play your petty little games. Just let me leave and I will stop with the night after night of drinking. I will stop being 'pathetic,' as you say," he said, in that same cold and apathetic inflection.</p><p>"Oh, really?" Nazi asked with a tone of feigned innocence, before returning to his usual bitter tone. "You're so deadset on doing absolutely nothing for yourself, I doubt you'd keep that up for more than a day."</p><p>"If that is what you think, perhaps let me go and see if you are correct. But if this is how these nights with you are going to end up, I do not want to bother anymore."</p><p>"Hmph." James released some of the pressure he had been pushing down onto Nikolai. </p><p>Now, James wasn't weak—at least that's what he told himself. He simply wasn't thinking straight. Maybe he had drunk too much that night, or maybe he didn't want to have to look at his sorry face any longer. </p><p>Maybe the rush of finally lashing out his anger onto the tankie had finally subsided and he was calming down... or maybe he was getting some other rush from this and he needed to stop that feeling. </p><p>Or maybe the tankie's last remark of not wanting to bother with him and these shared nights had felt genuine—maybe a bit too genuine for James' liking. Maybe the odd sinking feeling he had after hearing Nikolai say that had distracted him and made him lose face.</p><p>Whatever the reason, he lifted his foot, and let the tankie go. </p><p>"Hope you hold yourself to your words," James finally said, almost sounding sincere. "I personally don't believe you for a second, but I would love to see you try," he quickly added, a slight laugh punctuating his sentence.</p><p>He watched as Nikolai stood back up without any issue. They looked at each other, Nikolai towering over him. He stared down at James, a coldness glazing his eyes.</p><p>And in less than a second, James found himself held up against the kitchen wall with Nikolai's hand fisted into his shirt, lifting him up. </p><p>"You are too full of yourself, you know that? It surprises me that anyone can bare to stand hearing your bullshit and still believe in you." Nikolai spoke softly but sharply into the other man's ears. "All you fascists do is insult people. There is not a drop of kindness in anything you preach. And you wonder why people hate you so much." </p><p>A chill went down James' spine as he felt Nikolai's breath hot against his neck. He stared straight into the other man's eyes, practically glowing red in the dimly lit room. James was frozen.</p><p>"And since we seem to have forgotten proper manners, I am showing you how I feel about all of this," Nikolai continued. James felt the other man grip tighter and press harder into his chest. </p><p>"I promise you, I would snap your skinny little neck right here if I could," Nikolai spat into his face.</p><p>With that, Nikolai dropped him to the floor. James wasn't able to collect himself in time and failed to find footing, falling down to his knees. He watched as the Nikolai headed towards the hallway and to his room, not even bothering to look back.</p><p>He heard the other man's door close—surprisingly, it was a gentle click of the door.</p><p>James still sat frozen on the floor, breathing hard and replaying what happened in his head. </p><p>Was this what he wanted? He got the tankie to finally get off his ass and fight back. He got the tankie to say he would stop being so pathetic. So he was done with these unbearable nights, right?</p><p>But with his heart racing and mind spinning, he wasn't sure if he wanted to be done with these nights now.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. This one is full of repression and self-hatred</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nazi definitely does not go back into his room and experience sexual frustrations which culminate into him masturbating. Why the fuck would I write something as disgusting at that. Makes me sick to even think about it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>He couldn't put his finger on why exactly he couldn't get it out of his head—but the feeling of being held against the wall by Nikolai as he stood over him plagued his mind.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James closed the door behind him. It was late—far later than he would have guessed. He didn't realize how long he had been sitting in the dark kitchen after that, leaning against the wall, his mind tossing and turning. </p><p>He made his way to sit on his chair and leaned over his desk, resting his face on one of his hands. With his other hand, he fidgeted with the collar of the shirt, trying to find something to distract him from his thoughts. He couldn't put his finger on why exactly he couldn't get it out of his head—but the feeling of being held against the wall by Nikolai as he stood over him plagued his mind.</p><p>Perhaps he was simply glad that Nikolai was beginning to take action again. He had dealt with his complacency for far too long after all. It made sense that he was ecstatic to finally see some vigor in his ally again.</p><p>But if that was the case, wouldn't he want to move on from this? Shouldn't he stop focusing on it so much and redirect his own energy and the tankie's newfound vitality towards things of use?</p><p>Yet all he could think of was trying to get it to happen again—<i>to get it to happen</i> to me <i>again</i>, he made careful note <i>not</i> to say in his head.</p><p>He tried to reason with himself. There was a reason to these nagging thoughts. There had to be a perfectly natural and justifiable reason. </p><p>Perhaps he simply admired the other man's display of strength. He had always been one to respect masculinity after all. His strength could be put to good use, as he had just demonstrated. James couldn't stop thinking about the way that Nikolai had so swiftly lifted him off the floor. The other man had done so with such apparent ease, his breath not even staggering as he pushed the fascist against the wall—the same fascist who, at this moment, felt his breath hitch at the thought of it.</p><p>James tugged at his collar, uncomfortable with how tight it felt against his throat as he started to breathe more heavily—though it only reminded him of how it felt as Nikolai had grabbed his shirt. How it felt to have Nikolai's hand tightly fisted in his shirt, pulling him upwards and making his collar feel just a bit too tight around his neck. How it felt to have puffs of his breath trailing down his neck—</p><p>He unfastened the top button of his shirt and slumped down in his chair.</p><p><i>What the fuck is wrong with you?</i> His own thoughts attacked him—but for fair reason. Why was he letting that tankie plague his mind like this? </p><p>He gripped at his arm and dug his nails into his skin. <i>Get a hold of yourself. Don't let yourself be distracted by that bastard.</i></p><p>James shifted in the chair as he continued to argue with himself in his head. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, the silence of the room not helping. He moved to instinctively readjust the hem of his pants, which had begun to cause him a slight discomfort—how willing he was to admit that was another matter.</p><p><i>You need to sleep, or at least do something else</i>. He needed to stop letting his thoughts get carried away like this. <i>Stop letting his mind drift towards degeneracy</i>, he thought for a second, before just as quickly denying to himself that he was even thinking anything remotely degenerate.</p><p>He stood up and went to lay down on his bed, not even bothering to change clothes—possibly due to the fact he did not want to deal with that discomfort he was unwilling to admit. </p><p>He sank down into his bed and shut his eyes. He wanted to sleep—he wanted this to all go away—but his mind was still rampant with these thoughts.</p><p>What if he hadn't let go of the tankie so easily? What if he kept testing Nikolai's patience, mocking and taunting him. James could have pushed much further, perhaps calling him an idealist's failure, or a filthy slav, or a disgusting degenerate in disguise—would he have shoved him off to the ground? Would James not even have the time to react before he was slapped by him again, or punched by him, or even kicked around by him? He imagined himself pathetic on the floor, now painted with droplets of blood from his own face. He imagined himself looking up at the tankie's unforgiving and cold stare. </p><p>He felt a shiver go down his spine—he was enjoying the thought of being treated so roughly by the tankie far more than he should have. His mind wandered to how tight and unbearable his pants were becoming—only to be interrupted as he hit himself out of disgust. </p><p><i>These are useless questions and useless thoughts</i>, he said to himself. <i>Useless things that you're only indulging in for your fucked up temptations. Stop thinking about this.</i></p><p>But his mind refused to listen. It was only a mere few moments before he began to imagine how roughly Nikolai could continue to handle him. He could have easily pushed him down to the ground, the other man's boot planted firmly into his own chest. Nikolai could have easily held him down in place, James helpless to resist against his strength. He imagined that Nikolai could have gotten down and pinned his wrists to the floor—their faces close enough that he could feel Nikolai's breaths. His own face felt hot as he imagined the absolute hatred that would be in the tankie's glowing red eyes as he looked into the fascist's eyes. He imagined the contempt in Nikolai's voice as he would spit those same harsh words into his face:<br/>
"I promise you, I would snap your skinny little neck right here if I could." </p><p>He wished he could ignore the jolt of pleasure he felt from replaying the threat in his head. His face was flushed as the discomfort in his pants throbbed for attention—he pinched himself to draw attention away from it, forcing his nails to bite deeper into his skin. </p><p><i>There's something wrong with you</i>, he berated himself. <i>Don't revel in these degenerate thoughts</i>. But in conflict with what he was telling himself, James had started to shift his legs back and forth, unable—or, more so, <i>unwilling</i>—to deal with his growing pain any other way. </p><p>He couldn't help but imagine more of what the tankie would have threatened if he had just pushed even further. If he had continued to insult and mock the man who was on top of him. Nikolai often complained of everything he had to say, wishing that he would just shut up. Perhaps the other man would finally try to do something to shut him up. Perhaps he would take his hands and enclose them around his throat, pressing down, squeezing—</p><p>
  <i>God damn it all.</i>
</p><p>He couldn't put up with aching in his pants any longer and finally reached down, rubbing himself up and down, ashamedly thrusting his hips into his own touch.</p><p><i>You are absolutely disgusting</i>, James scolded himself. His mind was a mess of these sick, perverted thoughts—his attempts to be rational with himself drowned out by his own degeneracy.</p><p>He moved to unzip his pants—he paused, wanting to stop himself. <i>Don't be so fucking pathetic</i>, he scolded himself. <i>You are not going to let this corrupt your mind more than it already has.</i></p><p>But a needy desperation took ahold of him, as he ignored everything he knew was right and he unzipped his pants. And despite the burning shame that lived in the back of his mind, he began jerking himself off.</p><p>Everything felt ten times louder in the quiet room: his erratic and heavy breaths, the creak of his bed each time he pumped his hand up and down. At first, all he could worry about was Nikolai hearing him—but it was only a few moments until his mind was too filled with other thoughts of Nikolai to worry about that. 

</p><p>His mind scrambled from one thing to another. He thought of Nikolai's hands fisted into his shirt again. He thought of Nikolai pulling him up by the collar, not caring for how it was choking him—he thought of Nikolai's hands around his throat instead.</p><p>His breaths were jagged. He was getting closer. He quickened his pace.</p><p>He thought of how it felt to be at the complete disposal of the stronger man who towered above him. He thought of how it felt to be controlled by Nikolai. He thought of Nikolai's hands tightened into his hair, roughly pulling him up to face the other. He imagined Nikolai hitting him, giving him the punishment he deserves for acting so disgracefully. He imagined himself beaten and bruised, feeling ashamed as Nikolai would stare down at him with a smirk. </p><p>He was so close—the idea of being looked down upon by Nikolai making his movements rougher. He was now thrusting into his own grip, the creaking of his bed only becoming louder.</p><p>He imagined Nikolai telling him to finally put his mouth to good use for something other than spouting bullshit. He imagined Nikolai, with his hands still fisted in his hair, forcing James' head down onto his own length. He imagined himself choking at it—imagined Nikolai forcing his head up and down despite his obvious discomfort—imagined not being able to breathe or think—imagined Nikolai releasing himself into his mouth—</p><p>These thoughts, more jumbled as he felt himself get closer, had finally tipped him over the edge. James bit into his lip as he thrust hard into his grip, spilling all over his hand. His eyes were tightly screwed shut as he rode out each wave of pleasure.</p><p>He laid down in his bed with his eyes still shut, panting as he began to calm down. Inevitably, shame and disgust took over him as soon as he started recovering from the mindless desperation that had just taken over him. He didn't want to look down at the mess he had just created, though he still reached over to his drawer with his clean hand for a cloth he would need to wash as soon as possible.</p><p>He couldn't believe himself. He had never been dragged into such depths of pervertedness by anyone else before. He couldn't believe that he had just <i>came</i> to another man—much less the tankie he hated so much.</p><p><i>God</i>, he hated himself right now. Every little thing that was wrong with what he had just done ran through his head. If he knew someone else had done this, he would want to shoot them directly in the head.</p><p>But as he started running out of insults he could fling at himself in his head, he started guiltily thinking back to what he originally wanted. Despite how much he hated himself for it, he still wanted tonight to happen again. He still wanted the two of them to get into that same intimate argument. <i>Even in the way I had just imagined it</i>, he briefly thought to himself. He hit himself for it. </p><p>He tried to forget the thought, but he at least still wanted to taunt and tease tankie—he still wanted these arguments. He still wanted the tankie to join him the next night so the two could bicker again. Maybe it was because he wanted to do it to prove how wrong Nikolai was about not being able to drink. Or he wanted to test how true that promise was. Or he wanted to see that life and strength of Nikolai again, or something. </p><p>He didn't really care the reason, but he only wanted to further push Nikolai with the intent of one of those things, he told himself. If it ever escalated to the point of his fantasies—or <i>thoughts</i>, he would rather call them, then so be it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This has been in my notes for a week it is time to post it.</p><p>This hurt to write for more reasons than one. I am so ashamed.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have never fully read a multi-chapter fic in my life but here I am writing one. Building up tension between Nazi and Tankie is too good.</p><p>Anyway none of these are grammar checked too well because I am far too embarrassed that I wrote a fic about personified political ideologies.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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